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STEPHEN  Bo  WEEKS 

CLASS  OF  1886;  PUD.  THE  JOHNS  HOPKINS  UNlVERSfTY 


OF  THE 


TIE  WEEKS  COLILECTKDN 

OF 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/oneofmanyOOspof 


MY  MOTHEE  AND  I. 


255 


known.  For  after  Cousin  Conrad's  depart- 
ure we  seemed  to  close  up  together — she  and  I 
— in  one  another's  loving  arms  ;  understand- 
ing one  another  thoroughly,  though  still,  as 
ever,  we  did  not  speak  one  word  about  him 
that  all  the  world  might  not  have  heard. 

Outwardly,  our  life  was  wholly  free  from 
care.  We  had  as  much  of  each  other's  so- 
ciety, or  nearly  as  much,  as  we  bad  ever  had, 
with  the  cares  of  poverty  entirely  removed. 
My  grandfather  proved  as  good  as  his  word, 
and  all  that  Cousin  Conrad  had  said  of  him 
he  justified  to  the  full.  He  received  my 
mother  with  cordial  welcome,  and  treated 
her  from  first  to  last  with  unfailing  respect 
and  consideration.  She  had  every  luxury 
that  I  could  desire  for  her,  and  she  needed 
luxuries,  for  after  her  illness  she  was  never 
her  strong,  active  self  again.  But  she  was 
her  dear  self  always — the  sweetest,  bright- 
est little  mother  in  all  the  world. 

To  the  world  itself,  however,  we  were  two 
very  grand  people — Mrs.  and  Miss  Picardy 
of  Broadlands.  At  which  we  often  laughed 
between  ourselves,  knowing  that  we  were  in 
reality  exactly  the  same  as  in  our  shut-up 
poverty  days — just  "my  mother  and  I." 

Cousin  Conrad's  letters  were  our  great  en- 
joyment. He  never  missed  a  single  mail. 
Generally  he  wrote  to  her,  with  a  little  note 
inside  for  me,  inquiring  about  my  studies 
and  amusements,  and  telling  me  of  his  own, 
though  of  himself  personally  he  said  very 
little.  Whether  he  were  well  or  ill,  happy 
or  miserable,  we  could  guess  only  by  indirect 
evidence.  But  one  thing  was  clear  enough 
— his  intense  longing  to  be  at  home. 

"  Not  a  day  shall  I  wait,"  he  said  in  a  let- 
ter to  my  grandfather — "  not  a  single  day 
after  the  term  of  absence  I  have  prescribed 
to  myself  is  ended."  And  my  grandfather 
coughed,  saying,  mysteriously,  "  that  Conrad 
always  had  his  crotchets;  he  hoped  this 
would  be  the  last  of  them ;  it  was  not  so 
very  long  to  look  forward." 

Did  I  look  forward  ?  Had  I  any  dreams 
of  a  possible  future  ?  I  can  not  tell.  My 
life  was  so  full  and  busy — my  mother  seem- 
ed obstinately  determined  to  keep  it  busy — 
that  I  had  little  time  for  dreams. 

She  took  me  out  into  society,  and  I  think 
both  she  and  my  grandfather  enjoyed  socie- 
ty's receiving  me  well.  I  believe  I  made 
what  is  called  a  "  sensation"  in  both  Dublin 
and  London.  I  was  even  presented  at 
court,  and  the  young  Queen  said  a  kind 
word  or  two  about  me,  in  her  Majesty's  own 
pleasant  way.  Well,  well,  all  that  is  gone 
by  now ;  but  at  the  time  I  enjoyed  it.  It 
was  good  to  be  worth  something — even  to 
look  at — -and  I  liked  to  be  liked  very  much, 
until  some  few  did  rather  more  than  like  me, 
and  then  I  was  sometimes  very  unhappy. 
But  my  grandfather  kept  his  promise ;  he 
never  urged  upon  me  any  offer  of  marriage. 
And  my  mother  too — my  tender  mother — 

r< 

ri 
-4 

r» 


asked  me  not  a  single  question  as  to  the  why 
and  the  wherefore,  though,  one  after  anoth- 
er, I  persistently  refused  them  all. 

"When  she  is  one-and-twenty,  my  dear, 
we  may  hope  she  will  decide.  By  then  she 
will  have  time  to  know  her  own  mind. 
Conrad  said  so,  and  Conrad  is  always  right." 

Thus  said  my  grandfather  to  my  mother, 
and  they  both  smiled  at  one  another :  they 
were  the  best  of  friends  now,  and  so  they 
remained  to  the  last. 

The  last  came  sooner  than  any  of  us  had 
thought  —  for  Cousin  Conrad's  prophecies 
were  not  realized.  When  we  had  had  only 
three  years  in  which  to  make  him  happy — 
and  I  know  we  did  make  him  happy — my 
dear  grandfather  died  ;  suddenly,  painlessly, 
without  even  having  had  time  to  bid  us 
good-by.  It  was  a  great  shock,  and  we 
mourned  for  him  as  if  we  had  loved  him  all 
our  lives.  Ay,  even  though,  to  the  great 
surprise  of  our  affectionate  friends — a  large 
circle  now — he  left  us  only  a  small  annuity 
— the  rest  of  his  fortune  going,  as  the  will 
proved  he  had  always  meant  it  to  go,  to 
Cousin  Conrad.     I  was  so  glad ! 

Cousin  Conrad  was  now  obliged  to  come 
home.  We  had  only  one  line  from  h  im,  when 
he  got  the  sad  news,  begging  my  mother  to 
remain  mistress  at  Broadlands  until  he  ar- 
rived there,  and  adding  tliat,  if  it  did  not 
trouble  us  very  much,  he  should  be  grateful 
could  we  manage  to  meet  him  at  Southamp- 
ton, he  being  "rather  an  invalid." 

So  we  went.  I  need  not  say  any  thing 
about  the  journey.  When  it  ended,  my 
mother,  just  at  the  last  minute,  proposed 
that  I  should  remain  in  the  carriage,  at  the 
dock  gates,  while  she  went  forward  to  the 
ship's  side,  where  we  could  dimly  perceive 
a  crowd  disembarking. 

They  disembarked.  I  saw  them  land  in 
happy  groups,  with  equally  happy  friends 
to  greet  them,  laughing  and  crying  and  kiss- 
ing one  another.  They  all  came  home,  safe 
and  sound,  all  but  one— my  one.  Deep  in 
the  Eed  Sea,  where  the  busy  ships  sail  over 
him,  and  the  warm  waves  rock  him  in  his 
sleep,  they  had  left  him — as  much  as  could 
die  of  him — my  Cousin  Conrad. 

****** 

He  had  died  of  the  fatal  family  disease 
which  he  knew  he  was  doomed  to,  though 
the  warm  climate  of  the  East  and  the  pure 
air  of  the  hills  kept  it  dormant  for  a  long 
time.  But  some  accidental  exposure  brought 
on  inflammation  of  his  lungs  ;  after  which  he 
began  to  sink  rapidly.  The  doctors  told  him 
he  would  never  reach  England  alive ;  but  he 
was  determined  to  try.  I  heard  it  was  won- 
derful how  long  the  brave  spirit  upbore  the 
feeble  body.  He  did  not  suffer  much,  but 
just  lay  every  day  on  deck ;  alone,  quite 
alone,  as  far  as  near  friends  went — yet 
watched  and  tended  by  all  the  passengers, 
as  if  he  had  belonged  to  them  for  years.     In 


256 


HAEPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


the  midst  of  them  all,  these  kind  strange 
faces,  he  one  day  suddenly,  when  no  one  ex- 
pected it,  "fell  on  sleep."  For  he  looked  as 
if  asleep — they  said — with  the  sun  shining 
on  his  face,  and  his  hands  folded,  as  quiet  as 
a  child. 

All  that  was  his  became  mine.  He  left  it 
me— and  it  was  a  large  fortune — in  a  brief 
will,  made  hastily  the  very  day  after  he  had 
received  the  tidings  of  my  grandfather's 
death.  He  gave  me  every  thing  absolutely, 
both  "  because  it  was  my  right,"  and  "  be- 
cause he  had  always  loved  me." 

He  had  always  loved  me.  Then,  why 
grieve  ? 

In  course  of  years  I  think  I  have  almost 
ceased  to  grieve.  If,  long  ago,  merely  be- 
cause I  loved  him,  I  had  felt  as  if  already 
married,  how  much  more  so  now,  when  noth- 
ing could  ever  happen  to  change  this  feeling, 
or  make  my  love  for  him  a  sin  ? 

I  do  not  say  there  was  not  an  intermedi- 
ate and  terrible  time,  a  time  of  utter  blank- 
ness  and  darkness,  when  I  "  walked  through 
the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death ;"  alone, 
quite  aloue.  But  by-and-by  I  came  out  of 
it  into  the  safe  twilight — we  came  out  of  it, 


I  should  say,  for  she  had  been  close  beside 
me  all  the  while,  my  dearest  mother ! 

She  helped  me  to  carry  out  my  life,  as  like 
his  as  I  could  make  it,  in  the  way  I  knew  he 
would  most  approve.  And,  so  doing,  it  has 
not  been  by  any  means  an  unhappy  life.  I 
have  had  his  wealth  to  accomplish  all  his 
schemes  of  benevolence  ;  I  have  sought  out 
his  friends  and  made  them  mine,  and  been 
as  true  to  them  as  he  would  have  been.  In 
short,  I  have  tried  to  do  all  that  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  undone,  and  to  make  my- 
self contented  in  the  doing  of  it. 

"  Contented,"  I  think,  was  the  word  peo- 
ple most  often  used  concerning  us  during 
the  many  peaceful  years  we  spent  together, 
my  mother  and  I.  Now  it  is  only  I.  But  I 
am,  I  think,  a  contented  old  woman  yet. 
My  own  are  still  my  own — perhaps  the  more 
so  as  I  approach  the  time  of  reunion.  For 
even  here,  to  those  who  live  in  it  and  under- 
stand what  it  means,  there  is,  both  for  us 
and  for  our  dead,  both  in  this  life  and  in  the 
life  to  come,  the  same  "  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Of  course  I  have  always  remained  Elma 
Picardy. 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


THE  world  just  now  is  full  of  heroes,  for 
the  wars  of  the  late  decade  are  resplen- 
dent with  actions  well  fulfilling  the  poet's 
prophecy  of  the  period  when 

"Many  a  darkness  into  the  light  shall  leap, 
And    shine   in   the   sudden    making    of    splendid 
names." 

But  among  all  the  laureled  number  it  has 
not  been  our  fortune  to  hear  of  any  whose 
exploits  eclipse  in  brilliancy  and  elan  those 
of  one  of  our  young  naval  officers  who  en- 
tered the  lists  a  stripling,  and  whom  the 
close  of  the  war  found,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-command- 
er, and  with  the  engrossed  thanks  of  Con- 
gress and  of  the  Navy  Department  in  his 
possession,  together  with  countless  testimo- 
nials, medals,  and  acknowledgments  from 
generals  of  division,  Union  Leagues,  and  cor- 
porate bodies  in  all  parts  of  the  country : 
tributes  to  deeds  which  bring  back  to  us 
a  remembrance  of  those  of  the  old  heroic 
days  —  deeds  so  great  that  men  became 
great  through  the  mere  recital  of  them. 
And  certainly  he  who  so  often  and  so  gal- 
lantly risked  life  and  fame  for  his  country 
as  Lieutenant-Commander  William  B.  Gush- 
ing did  deserves  some  other  record  than  the 
disjointed  and  fragmentary  one  hidden  away 
in  the  archives  of  the  Bureau  of  State ;  and 
it  is  a  task  full  of  interest  to  gather  one  ru- 
mor and  another,  sift  their  truth,  and  put 
official  statement  by  statement,  till  the  story 


of  those  five  glorious  years  of  his  service 
stands  complete. 

Midshipman  Cushing  sailed  from  Boston 
in  the  frigate  Minnesota,  and  reached  Hamp- 
ton Roads  in  May,  1861 — a  lad  then  scarcely 
seventeen  years  old,  but  fully  determined 
upon  playing  a  great  part  in  the  great 
events  to  come.  The  Cumberland,  the  Quaker 
City,  and  the  MonUeello,  men-of-war,  all  lay 
in  the  roads,  and  the  latter  of  them,  which 
has  the  honor  of  having  been  the  first  ship 
under  fire  in  the  rebellion,  young  Cushing 
subsequently  commanded.  The  fleet  had 
not  been  at  anchor  a  single  day  when  five 
schooners,  loaded  with  tobacco,  were  cap- 
tured ;  and  that  night  the  young  midship- 
man took  into  port  the  Delaware  Farmer,  the 
first  prize  of  the  war.  During  the  next 
month  he  was  on  duty  with  the  blockading 
squadron  on  the  Carolina  coast ;  but  in  Au- 
gust he  was  again  in  Hampton  Roads,  and 
was  in  the  first  launch  with  those  sent  to 
storm  a  battery  and  burn  some  small  ves- 
sels; and  in  the  same  month  he  sailed  in 
the  Minnesota  to  the  assault  of  the  Hatteras 
forts,  the  squadron  consisting  of  the  flag- 
ship with  six  other  men-of-war  and  some 
steam-transports,  and  being  the  largest  that 
had  ever  sailed  together  under  the  American 
flag.  The  waters  to  which  Hatteras  Inlet 
gave  entrance  at  that  time  swarmed  with 
privateers  and  blockade  -  runners,  and  its 
possession  was  an  object  of  importance,  and 
was  guarded  by  the  two  forts,  Clark  and 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


257 


Hatteras.  As  the  squadron  moved  into  line, 
and  the  first  shot  fired  by  the  Wabash  was 
answered' by  the  rebel  guns  instantaneous- 
ly, and  every  ship  seemed  suddenly  sheeted 
in  flame,  the  scene  heightened  by  the  con- 
trast of  perfect  peace  otherwise  on  sea  and 
sky  during  all  the  bright  summer  day,  we 
can  easily  imagine  what  an  experience  it 
was  to  the  boy  for  the  first  time  under  the 
fire  of  one. of  those  engagements  to  which 
his  fancy  had  thrilled  a  thousand  times,  and 
his  enjoyment  of  it  may  be  known  by  the 
eagerness  with  which  from  that  moment 
he  plunged  into  every  thing  affording  any 
promise  of  the  same  excitement  and  danger. 

During  the  following  winter  Midshipman 
Cushing  did  blockading  duty  on  the  Cam- 
bridge, and  saw  some  hot  work  with  a  party 
"cutting  out"  a  schooner  up  a  narrow 
stream,  being  attacked  by  and  defeating  a 
large  body  of  infantry  and  artillery.  He 
was  often  in  this  stormy  season  out  in  open 
boats  for  hours  together,  with  the  sea 
breaking  over  him,  till  it  was  sometimes 
necessary  to  hoist  him  on  board,  too  stiff 
with  ice  and  sleet  to  bend  a  joint.  But  it 
was  at  this  time  that  the  great  Merrimac 
fight  came  off,  a  part  of  which  he  was — a 
part  of  the  Saturday's  black  despondency 
that  saw  the  Cumberland  go  down  and  the 
white  flag  flutter  from  the  peak  of  the  Con- 
gress, of  the  Sunday's  superb  confidence, 
when  the  rebel  giant,  with  the  sun  glisten- 
ing on  her  iron  shields,  bore  down  on  her 
grounded  antagonist,  and  never  seeming  to 
see  an  idle  mote  in  the  distance  till  a  200- 
pounder  came  from  it,  crashing  through  her 
consort,  which  turned  and  fled,  a  wreck, 
while  shot  after  shot  beat  and  brayed  her 
own  sides  till  the  skies  rang  with  the  echoes, 
and  the  fate  of  the  old  navies,  with  their 
snowy  billows  of  canvas,  was  settled  by  the 
victory  of  the  little  black  iron  turret. 

Of  course  the  young  sailor  had,  as  time 
went  on,  the  usual  number  of  the  escapades 
that  seem  to  be  the  peculiar  properties  of 
his  class,  one,  not  the  least,  of  which  hap- 
pened after  the  fight  at  Malvern  Hill,  when, 
being  ashore  with  his  admiral,  and  fired,  by 
the  account  of  his  valiant  brother,  with  the 
desire  of  sharing  in  an  affair  that  might  be 
similar  to  the  seven  days'  battle,  he  boldly 
made  off  in  search  of  adventure,  and  rode 
to  review  the  army  on  President  Lincoln's 
staff,  finding  himself  under  arrest  on  his  re- 
turn, though  presently,  with  the  proverbial 
luck  of  the  middy,  released  from  duress. 
He  was  destined,  however,  soon  to  leave 
that  fortunate  and  irresponsible  condition, 
and  in  July,  1862,  was  promoted  to  a  lieu- 
tenancy, the  intermediate  grades  being  over- 
looked, and  was  ordered  to  the  sounds  of 
North  Carolina ;  and,  having  turned  to  ac- 
count the  year's  stern  schooling,  there  the 
career  that  has  rendered  his  name  remarka- 
ble really  began.    And  it  may  be  mentioned 


here  that  it  was  not  only  in  the  art  of  the 
sea-fight  that  he  had  accomplished  himself, 
but  in  the  more  difficult  art  of  attaching 
men  to  him  in  such  wise  that  they  would 
hazard  life  and  fortune  to  follow  him,  a 
thing  absolutely  indispensable  to  his  under- 
takings. Of  this  attachment  of  his  compan- 
ions and  subordinates  an  instance  may  be 
cited  to  the  purpose,  though  so  trifling. 
This  occurred  once  when  the  lieutenant 
went  to  Washington  with  dispatches,  and 
when,  chancing  to  look  over  the  hotel  regis- 
ter, he  found  the  names  just  above  his  own 
were  those  of  the  officers  who  had  ven- 
tured with  him  on  -that  terrible  night  of 
the  affair  of  the  Albemarle,  and  whom  he 
had  supposed  to  be  gone  to  their  long  home. 
He  had  worn  on  the  coat  which  he  had 
thrown  off  that  night  upon  taking  to  the 
water  a  ribbon  with  a  gold  chain  and  locket 
of  some  value ;  and  on  springing  into  the 
room  where  were  the  officers,  in  the  sorry 
guise  of  their  prison  habiliments,  after  the 
first  greetings  were  over  he  saw  one  take 
from  under  the  collar  of  his  blouse  some  of 
the  buttons  of  that  coat,  one  the  locket,  one 
the  chain)  and  another  the  ribbon,  the  men 
having  carried  these  articles,  unsuspected 
and  untouched,  through  all  the  want  and 
privations  of  four  months  in  rebel  prisons. 

It  having  been  decided  not  long  subse- 
quently to  Lieutenant  Cushing's  promotion 
to  make  a  combined  movement  of  army  and 
navy  against  the  town  of  Franklin — after- 
ward destroyed  by  the  army — an  agreement 
was  entered  into  for  the  army  to  open  the  at- 
tack, and  the  navy  to  send  three  vessels  up 
the  Blackwater  in  order  to  intercept  the  re- 
treat of  the  seven  thousand  rebels.  For  some 
reason  or  other  the  plan  was  changed,  but 
the  messenger  dispatched  by  the  command- 
ing officer  with  the  account  of  the  change  did 
not  reach  his  destination  in  season ;  and  pre- 
suming that  all  was  to  be  as  arranged,  three 
vessels  moved  up  the  Blackwater  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour,  and  were  presently  engaged, 
with  a  couple  of  hundred  men  and  a  few 
cannon,  by  all  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  in 
a  stream  exceedingly  narrow,  and  so  crook- 
ed that  lines  had  constantly  to  be  taken 
from  the  ships  and  wound  about  the  trees 
on  the  shore,  to  obtain  purchase  and  haul 
the  bows  round  the  bend.  At  last,  on  work- 
ing past  a  sharp  angle  of  the  shore,  they 
came  upon  an  impassable  barricade,  an  ab- 
atis formed  of  the  great  trees  felled  from 
both  banks  directly  across  the  stream,  at  a 
point  where  the  force  of  the  angry  current 
drifted  them  strongly  in  toward  the  left 
side;  and  at  the  moment  every  object  on 
the  bank  became  alive,  and  blazed  with  a 
deadly  fire,  and  such  a  yell  burst  forth  from 
every  quarter  that  it  seemed  to  belong  to 
the  universal  air.  Captain  Flusser  instant- 
ly ordered  all  hands  into  shelter,  since  it 
would  have  been  the  merest  bravado  to  at- 


258 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


tempt  fighting  his  few  men  on  an  open 
deck ;  but  Lieutenant  Cushing,  chancing  to 
glance  over  the  side,  saw  a  mass  of  infantry- 
rushing  down  under  cover  of  this  fire  to 
board  the  vessel  that  lay  in  such  a  cruel  am- 
buscade, and  calling  for  volunteers,  he  dash- 
ed out,  cast  loose  the  howitzer,  and  by  the 
aid  of  half  a  dozen  men  and  an  officer, 
wheeled  it  to  the  other  side  of  the  deck. 
Before  the  piece  could  be  leveled  the  seven 
men  lay  dead  and  dying  around  him,  and, 
alone  on  the  deck,  he  sent  the  death-dealing 
canister  flying  into  the  assailants  with  a 
will.  It  had  the  effect  of  magic,  making 
such  havoc  that  the  enemy  fled  in  terror — 
all  save  the  leader,  a  man  of  noble  appear- 
ance, who,  unaware  of  the  faltering  of  his 
troops,  advanced,  brandishing  his  sword,  his 
long  hair  streaming  behind  him,  a  shining 
mark  for  death  to  lay  low.  Upon  this  all 
hands  were  called  to  the  scene,  the  guns 
were  worked  with  grape  and  canister,  and 
the  marines,  protected  by  the  hammocks, 
watched  the  tree-tops  for  a  puff  of  smoke, 
and  picked  off  the  sharp-shooters,  who  fell 
every  moment  through  the  breaking  branch- 
es with  wild  cries.  After  that  nothing  was 
left  but  retreat,  and  there  followed  half  a 
day  of  furious  assault  and  repulse,  of  fight- 
ing for  every  point,  in  order  to  send  the  lines 
ashore  there,  and  so  to  round  the  curves  of 
the  river ;  of  struggling  on  the  enemy's  part 
to  keep  the  ships  in  the  toils,  of  barricades 
at  every  bend,  of  rifle-pits  on  every  bluff. 
Of  course  the  ship  that  had  been  in  the  rear 
of  the  advance  now  led  the  retreat,  and  re- 
ceived the  concealed  fire  of  a  thousand  in- 
fantry at  every  exposed  spot,  while  the  Com- 
modore Perry,  bringing  up  the  rear  at  some 
distance  behind,  was  in  almost  every  in- 
stance unexpected  by  the  rebels,  and  com- 
ing on  their  flank,  threw  into  them  such  vol- 
leys of  grape  and  shrapnel  that  those  on 
board  could  distinctly  see  the  bloody  havoc 
that  they  wrought.  At  length,  completely 
exhausted,  the  three  brave  vessels  were  in 
open  water  once  more,  decks  wet  with  blood 
and  heaped  with  dead  and  wounded,  and 
sides  fairly  riddled  with  bullets.  It  was 
probably  owing  to  the  report  of  this  affair, 
in  which  Lieutenant  Cushing  was  highly 
complimented,  that  he  was  ordered  to  his 
first  command,  the  gun-boat  Ellis,  a  craft  of 
a  hundred  tons,  mounting  two  guns,  and 
drawing  so  little  water  that,  in  Western 
parlance,  she  could  float  on  a  heavy  dew; 
and  in  her  the  young  officer,  aged  nineteen, 
resolved  upon  noble  achievements. 

After  capturing  the  town  of  Swansbor- 
ough,  taking  and  being  obliged  to  burn  the 
Adelaide,  with  a  cargo  worth  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  destroying  many  im- 
portant salt-works,  Lieutenant  Cushing 
made  a  dash  for  the  county  seat  of  Onslow 
Court  House,  about  twenty  miles  from  the 
mouth  of  New  River,  where  the  wide  and 


deep  waters  afforded  an  excellent  harbor  for 
Nassau  vessels.  The  following  is  his  official 
report  of  the  affair  to  his  senior  officer,  and 
his  demand  for  an  investigation,  which  was 
denied  him,  because,  as  Mr.  Fox  said,  "  We 
don't  care  for  the  loss  of  a  vessel  when 
fought  so  gallantly  as  that." 

"  U.  S.  S.  '  Hbtzel,'  November  26,  1862. 

"Sib,— I  have  the  honor  to  report  that  I  entered 
New  River  Inlet  on  the  23d  of  this  month,  with  the 
United  States  steamer  Ellis  under  my  command,  suc- 
ceeded in  passing  the  narrow  and  shallow  place  called 
the  Rocks,  and  started  up  the  river.  My  object  was 
to  sweep  the  river,  capture  any  vessels  there,  capture 
the  town  of  Jacksonville,  or  Onslow  Court  House, 
take  the  Wilmington  mail,  and  destroy  any  salt-works 
that  I  might  find  on  the  hanks.  I  expected  to  surprise 
the  enemy  in  going  up,  and  then  to  fight  my  way  out. 
Five  miles  from  the  mouth  I  came  in  sight  of  a  vessel 
bound  outward,  with  a  load  of  cotton  and  turpentine. 
The  enemy  fired  her  to  prevent  her  falling  into  our 
hands.  I  ran  alongside,  made  sure  that  they  could  not 
extinguish  the  flames,  and  again  steamed  up  the  river. 
At  1  p.m.  I  reached  the  town  of  Jacksonville,  landed, 
threw  out  my  pickets,  and  placed  guards  over  the 
public  buildings.  This  place  is  the  county  seat  of 
Onslow  County,  and  quite  an  important  town.  It  is 
situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  going  up,  and 
is  thirty-five  or  forty  miles  from  the  mouth.  I  cap- 
tured twenty-five  stand  of  public  arms  in  the  court- 
house and  post-office,  quite  a  large  mail,  and  two 
schooners.  I  also  confiscated  the  negroes  of  the  Con- 
federate postmaster.  I  forgot  to  mention  that  the 
town  is  situated  upon  the  main  turnpike-road  from 
Wilmington.  Several  rebel  officers  escaped  as  I  near- 
ed  the  town,  and  carried  the  news  to  that  city. 

"  At  2.30  p.m.  I  started  down  the  river,  and  at  5  p.m. 
came  in  sight  of  a  camp  on  the  bank,  which  I  thor- 
oughly shelled.  At  the  point  where  the  schooner 
captured  in  the  morning  was  still  burning  the  enemy 
opened  fire  on  the  Ellis  with  rifles,  but  were  soon  si- 
lenced by  our  guns.  I  had  two  pilots  on  board,  both 
of  whom  informed  me  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
take  the  steamer  from  the  river  that  night.  High  wa- 
ter and  daylight  were  two  things  absolutely  essential 
in  order  to  take  her  out.  I  therefore  came  to  anchor 
about  five  miles  from  the  outer  bar,  took  my  prizes 
alongside,  and  made  every  preparation  to  repel  an  at- 
tack. All  night  long  the  signal-fires  of  the  enemy 
could  be  seen  upon  the  banks.  At  daylight  I  got 
under  way,  and  had  nearly  reached  the  worst  place 
in  the  channel,  when  the  enemy  opened  on  us  with 
two  pieces  of  artillery.  I  placed  the  vessel  in  posi- 
tion, at  once  hoisted  the  battle-flag  at  the  fore,  the 
crew  gave  it  three  cheers,  and  we  went  into  action. 
In  one  hour  we  had  driven  the  enemy  from  his  guns 
and  from  the  bluff,  and  passed  within  a  hundred  yards 
of  their  position  without  receiving  fire.  Up  to  this 
time  I  had  been  in  every  way  successful,  but  was 
here  destined  to  meet  with  an  accident  that  changed 
the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  resulted  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  my  vessel.  About  five  hundred  yards  from 
the  bluffs,  the  pilots,  mistaking  the  channel,  ran  the 
Ellis  hard  and  fast  aground.  All  hands  went  to 
work  at  once  to  lighten  her,  and  anchors  and  steam 
were  used  to  get  her  afloat,  but  without  success.  The 
headway  of  the  steamer  had  forced  her  over  a  shoal, 
and  into  a  position  where,  as  the  centre  of  a  circle,  we 
had  a  circumference  of  shoal  all  around.  When  the 
tide  fell  I  sent  a  party  ashore  to  take  possession  of  the 
artillery  abandoned  in  the  morning,  but  when  they 
reached  the  field  it  was  discovered  that  it  had  been  re- 
moved while  we  were  at  work  upon  the  vessel.  If  I 
mm  secured  this,  I  proposed  to  construct  a  shore  bat- 
tery to  assist  in  the  defense  of  my  vessel  by  keeping 
the  rebels  from  placing  their  battery  in  position.  At 
dark  I  took  one  of  my  prize  schooners  alongside,  and 
proceeded  to  take  every  thing  out  of  the  Ellis  except- 
ing the  pivot-gun,  some  ammunition,  two  tons  of  coal, 
and  a  few  small-arms.  Steam  and  anchor  again  failed 
to  get  my  vessel  afloat.    I  felt  confident  that  the  Con- 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


259 


federates  would  come  on  me  in  overwhelming  force, 
and  it  now  became  my  duty  to  save  my  men.  So  all 
hands  were  called  to  muster,  and  the  crew  told  that 
they  could  go  aboard  the  schooner.  I  called  for  six 
volunteers  to  remain  with  me  on  board  and  fight  the 
remaining  gun.  Knowing  that  it  was  almost  certain 
death,*  the  rnfn  came  forward,  and  two  master's  mates, 
Valentine  and  Barton,  were  among  the  number.  These 
gentlemen  subsequently  behaved  with  coolness  and 
bravery.  I  ordered  the  schooner  to  drop  down  the 
channel  out  of  range  from  the  bluffs,  and  there  to  wait 
for  the  termination  of  the  impending  engagement, 
and  if  we  were  destroyed,  to  proceed  to  sea.  Early  in 
the  morning  the  enemy  opened  upon  us  from  four 
points  with  heavy  rifled  guns  (one  a  Whitworth).  It 
was  a  cross-fire,  and  very  destructive.  I  replied  as  best 
I  could,  but  in  a  short  time  the  engine  was  disabled, 
and  she  was  much  cut  up  in  every  part,  and  the  only 
alternatives  left  were  surrender  or  a  pull  of  one  and  a 
half  miles  under  their  fire  in  my  small  boat.  The  first 
of  these  was  not,  of  course,  to  be  thought  of  ;  the  sec- 
ond I  resolved  to  attempt.  I  fired  the  Ellis  in  five 
places,  and  having  seen  that  the  battle-flag  was  still 
flying,  trained  the  gun  upon  the  enemy,  so  that  the  ves- 
sel might  fight  herself  after  we  had  left,  and  started 
down  the  river,  reached  the  schooner,  and  made  sail 
for  sea.  It  was  low  water  on  the  bar,  and  a  heavy 
surf  was  rolling  in,  but  the  wind  forced  us  through 
after  striking  several  times.  We  were  just  in  time, 
for  about  six  hundred  yards  down  the  beach  were  sev- 
eral companies  of  calvary  trying  to  reach  the  mouth 
of  the  inlet  in  time  to  cut  us  off.  We  hoisted  our  flag, 
gave  three  cheers,  and  were  off.  In  four  hours  I 
reached  Beaufort.  I  brought  away  all  my  men,  my 
rifled  howitzer  and  ammunition,  the  ship's  stores  and 
clothing,  the  men's  bags  and  hammocks,  and  a  portion 
of  the  small-arms.  I  retained  on  board  the  Ellis  a  few 
muskets,  pikes,  and  pistols  to  repel  boarders.  I  neg- 
lected to  state  that  when  I  took  possession  of  the  en- 
emy's ground  on  the  24th  a  salt-work  was  destroyed, 
and  ten  boats  rendered  useless  that  were  to  have  been 
used  for  boarding. 

"  At  9  a.m.  the  United  States  steamer  Ellis  was  blown 
in  pieces  by  the  explosion  of  the  magazine.  Officers 
and  men  behaved  nobly,  obeying  orders  strictly  under 
the  most  trying  circumstances. 

"  I  respectfully  request  that  a  court  of  inquiry  may 
be  ordered  to  investigate  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  to 
see  if  the  honor  of  the  flag  has  suffered  in  my  hands." 

This  report  was  indorsed  in  commenda- 
tory terms  by  the  senior  officer  to  whom  it 
was  addressed,  and  was  further  indorsed  by 
Admiral  Lee  with  the  expression  of  his  "ad- 
miration for  Lieutenant  Cushing's  coolness, 
courage,  and  conduct." 

Shortly  after  this  affair,  there  being  need 
of  pilots  for  the  harbor  of  Wilmington,  upon 
which  place  an  attack  was  meditated,  Lieu- 
tenant Cushing  undertook  to  make  prison- 
ers of  some ;  and  in  the  course  of  his  adven- 
ture, at  night,  a  couple  of  miles  up  a  narrow 
shadowy  stream,  he  was  suddenly  saluted 
by  a  volley  of  musketry.  Without  losing 
a  moment  he  turned  his  boats  to  shore,  and 
crying  to  his  men  to  follow  him — there 
were  but  twenty  in  all — he  had  them,  yell- 
ing and  shouting,  up  a  bluff  and  charging 
an  earth- work,  over  ditch  and  parapet,  and, 
through  the  might  of  sheer  boldness,  driv- 
ing the  garrison  from  the  fort  with  so  firm 
a  conviction  that  they  were  surprised  by  a 
much  superior  body  that  arms  and  valua- 


*  The  magazine,  as  Lieutenant  Cushing  does  not 
mention  in  his  report,  being  entirely  exposed. 


bles,  and  even  supper,  were  left  at  the  mercy 
of  the  conquerors,  who,  enjoying  the  supper, 
and  possessing  themselves  of  every  thing- 
portable,  soon  destroyed  the  earth-work  and 
returned  to  the  little  prize  schooner  in  which 
they  had  disguised  their  approach,  and 
which  was  already  rolling  in  the  heavy 
swell  of  an  advancing  storm.  Inside  of  the 
angle  made  with  the  coast  by  Cape  Fear  and 
Frying-pan  Shoals,  which  jut  out  into  the 
Atlantic  for  some  thirty  miles,  and  where 
every  southwest  gale  heaps  up  the  sea  in  a 
fearful  manner,  in  a  vessel  of  forty  tons, 
with  one  anchor,  a  few  fathoms  of  chain, 
I  and  a  lee  shore  alive  with  an  angry  and 
I  alert  enemy — this  is  a  situation  certainly 
not  to  be  coveted ;  and  though  the  Hope  ran 
J  under  close-reefed  canvas,  it  soon  became 
:  apparent  that,  making  as  much  leeway  as 
!  headway,  there  was  no  possibility  of  her 
weathering  the  shoals  at  all.  Meanwhile 
a  tempest  of  rain  abated  in  some  degree  the 
great  height  and  power  of  the  waves,  but 
it  was  accompanied  by  a  dense  fog  that  in- 
folded the  little  schooner  like  a  fleece,  and 
shut  her  off  from  all  the  world  of  raging  wa- 
ters round  them.  At  this  juncture  one  of 
two  things  must  at  once  be  decided  upon — 
either  to  go  ashore  and  surrender  vessel  and 
crew  as  prisoners  of  war,  or  to  put  boldly 
out  across  the  thirty  miles  of  stormy  space 
between  the  shore  and  the  shoals,  and,  al- 
lowing for  all  the  leeway  made,  endeavor 
to  strike  the  mere  vein  of  a  channel  that 
was  known  to  streak  them  like  a  hair.  Of 
course  Lieutenant  Cushing  chose  the  latter, 
although,  in  such  a  gale,  he  was  aware  that 
the  breakers  must  be  very  high  even  in  that 
narrow  channel.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  magnifi- 
cent game  .of  chance,  for  should  they  veer 
to  the  right  or  the  left  the  distance  of  a  doz- 
en rods,  not  one  plank  of  the  schooner  would 
be  left  upon  another.  Accordingly  he  fixed 
his  course,  placed  Mr.  Valentine — the  same 
master's  mate  who  acted  so  gallantly  at  the 
loss  of  the  Ellis — at  the  helm,  and  told  him 
alone  of  the  danger. 

"All  at  once,"  says  Lieutenant  Cushing, 
in  relating  the  affair,  "  I  saw  the  old  quar- 
termaster at  the  lead  turn  deathly  pale  as 
he  sang  out,  'Breakers  ahead!  For  God's 
sake,  Sir,  go  about !'  In  an  instant  the  cry 
was,  '  Breakers  on  the  lee  bow !'  then, 
( Breakers  on  the  weather  bow !'  and  we 
were  into  them.  All  seemed  over  now  ;  but 
we  stood  at  the  helm,  determined  to  control 
our  boat  to  the  last.  A  shock — she  had 
struck.  But  it  was  only  for  a  second,  and 
she  still  fairly  flew  through  the  great  white 
breakers.  Again  and  again  she  struck,  but 
never  hard.  She  had  found  the  channel, 
and  in  twenty  minutes  we  were  safe,  and 
scudding  for  Beaufort." 

Lieutenant  Cushing  now  took  command  of 
a  steamer  mounting  five  100-pounder  smooth- 
bore guns,  one  100-pounder  Parrott  rifle,  and 


260 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


a  12-pound  howitzer,  with  a  crew  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men — preferring  this  command 
in  Hampton  Roads,  with  a  good  prospect  of 
engagement,  to  that  of  the  fast  blockader 
Violet  and  a  prospect  of  many  rich  prizes. 
And  fighting  being  what  he  wanted,  he  had, 
one  might  suppose,  a  plenty  of  it,  being  en- 
gaged continuously  for  three  weeks,  and  nev- 
er once  defeated:  taking  earth -works  and 
bringing  off  the  guns;  pulling  in  his  gig 
from  ship  to  ship  under  the  muzzles  of  the 
enemy's  guns  in  full  blast;  taking,  with 
ninety  sailors  and  a  howitzer,  the  town  of 
Chuckatuck  four  hours  after  it  had  been 
occupied  by  Longstreet's  left  wing  ;  making 
important  reconnaissances,  constantly  ex- 
posed to  danger — bullets  grazing  his  skin, 
and  one  shearing  a  lock  of  hair  from  his 
head  close  to  the  crown — but  never  meet- 
ing with  any  injury.  At  the  close  of  this 
duty  he  received  a  letter  of  congratulation 
and  thanks  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
and  being  ordered  into  dock  for  repairs,  he 
was  sent  for  by  the  President,  who  compli- 
mented him  with  enthusiasm  in  an  hour's 
interview. 

After  being  put  in  condition  again  Lieu- 
tenant Cushing's  ship  proceeded  on  an  ex- 
pedition up  the  York  River,  in  which  Briga- 
dier-General Lee,  the  son  of  General  Robert 
E.  Lee,  was  made  prisoner ;  and  before  long 
he  was  ordered  to  the  defense  of  the  capital, 
which  the  advance  of  the  rebels  had  endan- 
gered. It  was  while  he  was  stationed  at 
Washington  that  the  battle  of  Gettysburg 
took  place,  where  his  brother  fell  fighting 
in  command  of  a  battery  of  the.  Fourth 
United  States  Artillery,  and  Lieutenant 
Cushing  at  once  proceeded  to  the  field  with 
the  double  purpose  of  procuring  his  broth- 
er's remains  and  of  working  his  guns,  if  per- 
mitted to  do  so ;  but  the  army  had  already 
moved  on,  leaving  its  terrible  debris  of 
horses  and  cannon  and  caissons,  of  count- 
less wounded  men  and  unburied  dead,  be- 
neath the  burning  sky.  "  As  I  write  this," 
says  Lieutenant  Cushing,  some  years  later 
— "  as  I  write  this,  rocked  on  the  long  swell 
of  the  Pacific,  under  the  warmth  of  an  equa- 
torial sun,  my  mind  goes  back  in  review  of 
the  many  sad  scenes  in  those  bloody  years 
of  rebellion,  but  fails  to  bring  tip  any  pic- 
ture that  is  so  grand,  or  solemn,  or  mourn- 
ful as  that  great  theatre  of  death." 

In  the  following  August — that  of  1863 — 
the  lieutenant  went  on  board  the  Shoboken, 
which  was  a  ferry-boat  with  the  hxill  built 
out,  fitted  for  work  in  all  manner  of  shallow 
creeks,  but  eminently  unseaworthy.  In  her 
he  destroyed  the  blockade-runner  Hebe,  aft- 
er a  contest  with  a  rebel  battery ;  and  being 
refused  permission  to  do  as  much  for  another- 
vessel  in  New  Topsail  Inlet,  soon  undertook 
the  task  without  permission.  Anchoring  the 
Shoboken  near  the  land  late  in  the  afternoon, 
he  led  the  enemy  to  suppose  that  an  expedi- 


tion in  boats  was  intended  six  miles  up  the 
river  to  the  wharf  where  the  prize  lay ;  and 
accordingly  one  gun  was  detached  from  the 
rebel  battery  of  six  at  the  mouth  of  the  in- 
let, carried  up  to  the  wharf,  and  pointed  so 
as  to  command  the  deck  of  the  prize,  in  case 
the  remaining  guns  had  not  already  annihi- 
lated the  party  attempting  entrance ;  and  a 
watch  having  been  set,  things  seemed  as 
safe  as  strength  and  vigilance  could  make 
them.  But  the  rebels  had  a  foe  to  deal 
with  of  whose  strategic  powers  they  made 
no  calculation,  and  it  did  not  enter  their 
heads  to  observe  that  the  Shoboken  was  anch- 
ored four  miles  up  the  beach,  and  to  draw 
any  inference  from  such  anchorage.  So, 
with  the  night,  taking  ashore  two  boats' 
crews  in  a  single  boat,  the  lieutenant  had 
them  shoulder  the  dingy  and  carry  it  across 
the  narrow  neck  of  land,  and  launch  it  on 
the  other  side,  four  miles  inside  the  inlet, 
and  entirely  out  of  range  of  the  battery  at 
the  mouth.  A  night  surprise  is  apt  to  be  a 
successful  thing,  for  it  has  to  aid  it  all  the 
doubt  and  magnitude  and  awe  of  the  night, 
which  increases  the  attacking  force  to  infin- 
ity, and  bewilders  the  judgment  of  the  as- 
sailed with  darkness ;  but  even  with  knowl- 
edge of  this  the  rebels  might  have  been 
amazed  if  they  had  ever  learned  that  they 
were  surprised,  charged,  and  routed  in  the 
night  by  six  sailors,  their  artillery  and  ten 
prisoners  captured,  the  vessel  burned,  and 
some  valuable  salt-works  destroyed,  two 
sailors  acting  as  pickets,  two  guarding  the 
prisoners,  and  two,  assisted  by  the  ever- 
ready  plantation  hands,  burning  the  vessel 
and  buildings.  Of  course  the  ten  prisoners 
would  have  been  entirely  too  much  for  the 
six  men  if  they  had  only  known  there  were 
but  six,  but  three  of  them  being  stowed  in  , 
the  dingy,  while  a  great  amount  of  order- 
ing and  answering  passed  between  supposi- 
titious boats  on  the  stream,  the  remainder 
were  directed  to  go  some  furlongs  up  the 
bank  and  report  to  an  officer  there,  and  not 
to  go  too  far  out  unless  they  wished  to  be 
shot  by  the  pickets  of  their  captors;  and 
that  being  done,  the  lieutenant  and  his 
party  glided  away  in  the  darkness  and  re- 
gained the  Shoboken  in  safety. 

But  not  to  rest.  It  was  only  from  one 
thing  to  another  with  this  daring  spirit. 
Finding  the  next  day,  on  regaining  the 
squadron,  that  it  was  engaged  with  a  bat- 
tery on  the  shore,  he  threw  himself  with 
twenty  men  into  boats,  assaulted  the  bat- 
tery, and  took  two  rifled  guns,  which  he 
got  aboard  his  ship  ;  and  immediately  after- 
ward, no  other  enemy  being  at  hand,  enter- 
ed into  a  tussle  with  a  northeast  gale,  which 
so  nearly  had  the  better  of  him  that  when 
he  came  in  sight  of  the  fleet  again  he  learn- 
ed that  all  had  supposed  him  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea ;  but  he  had,  in  truth,  a  curious 
way  of  always  coming  to  the  surface  again, 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


261 


and  of  frequently  being  taken  for  Ms  own 
ghost,  as  was  evident,  indeed,  on  the  night 
succeeding  the  destruction  of  the  Albemarle. 
Immediately  after  this  gale  he  was  detached 
from  the  Slwboken  and  ordered  to  the  Monti- 
cello,  the  command  being  given  him,  said 
Mr.  Fox,  "  for  distinguished  services  render- 
ed," and  it  is  not  a  little  amusing  to  find 
him,  hot-headed  as  ever,  while  on  shore 
awaiting  bis  outfit,  administering  summary 
chastisement  to  some  men  who  had  dared  to 
speak  disrespectfully  of  his  uniform. 

In  the  winter  of  1862  he  was  again  block- 
ading off  the  Carolina  coast.  This  service 
must  have  been  on  many  accounts  an  inter- 
esting one — the  ships  by  day  lying  at  their 
anchorage  out  of  the  enemy's  range,  by  night 
drawing  together  in  one  long  line  across  the 
bar  in  order  that  none  of  the  leaden  hulls  of 
the  runners,  so  skillfully  mingling  with  the 
tints  of  mist  and  twilight,  might  elude  them, 
and  always  on  guard  against  shoal  and  reef 
and  the  coming  out  of  the  moon  to  show  them 
"  close  under  a  hundred  rebel  cannon,"  point- 
ed at  different  altitudes,  so  that  one  might 
do  what  another  failed  to  do.  There  were 
also  cruisers  stationed  farther  out,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  determine  what  ought  to  be 
the  whereabouts  of  the  richly  laden  escaping 
steamers,  taking  into  account  the  probable 
time  of  escape,  moon  and  tide  and  speed,  a 
look-out  being  always  aloft  to  give  the  cry, 
and  start  the  chase  that  would  presently 
overhaul  a  million  dollars  for  prize.  Such 
work,  however,  was  not  adventurous  enough 
for  Lieutenant  Cushing's  fancy,  and  he  de- 
termined to  celebrate  Washington's  birth- 
day in  a  more  exciting  manner,  and  by  tak- 
ing and  holding  Smith's  Island,  close  to  the 
enemy,  one  of  the  outlets  of  Cape  Fear  River, 
#  which  would  have  been  an  event  of  great 
importance.  Failing  to  obtain  permission, 
through  his  senior  officer's  fear  of  assuming 
responsibility,  although  the  undertaking  pro- 
ceeded on  the  assumption  of  such  complete 
security  in  the  strength  of  their  position  on 
the  part  of  tbe  enemy  that  every  precaution 
which  could  stand  in  the  way  of  a  surprise 
was  most  probably  omitted,  and  indignant 
with  what  seemed  to  him  a  lack  of  dash  and 
spirit  where  it  could  be  of  any  service,  the 
young  man  at  once  proceeded  to  act  for  him- 
self,  and  we  have  never  heard  of  any  instance 
since  the  days  of  windy  Troy  to  compare  with 
that  night's  adventure ;  for  as  he  was  not  al- 
lowed the  means  to  carry  out  his  original 
proposition,  Lieutenant  Cushing  had  gravely 
assured  his  senior  that  in  order  to  prove  to 
him  how  completely  feasible  it  was,  he  would 
have  the  honor  of  bringing  off  the  Confed- 
erate commanding  officer  to  breakfast  with 
him  in  the  morning.  All  lovers  of  heroism 
will  remember  the  passage  of  the  Iliad  where 
Ulysses  and  Diomed  leave  the  circle  of  old 
kings  sitting  around  the  field  fire  in  the  dead 
of  the  night,  and  exploring  the  hostile  camps, 


take  the  spy  Dolon  and  destroy  Rhesus  in 
his  tent,  and  bring  off  the 

"  steeds 
More  white  than  snow,  huge  and  well  shaped,  whose 

fiery  pace  exceeds 
The  winds  in  swiftness." 

It  was  quite  as  daring  a  thing  which  Lieu- 
tenant Cushing  now  proposed  to  do. 

He  had  already  on  a  reconnaissance  found 
that  the  rebel  confidence  was  so  great  that 
when  grazing  the  very  face  of  the  forts  he 
had  received  no  challenge,  and  therefore  on 
this  night  he  took  twenty  men,  entered  the 
Cape  Fear  River,  and  pulled  directly  up  to 
Smithville,  the  rebel  head-quarters,  landing 
before  the  hotel,  perhaps  twenty-five  yards 
from  the  fort,  and  hiding  his  men  on  the 
shore.  Obtaining  from  a  negro  at  a  salt- 
work  on  the  bank  the  requisite  information, 
with  two  of  his  officers  he  crept  at  midnight, 
when  not  a  sound  disturbed  the  air,  up  the 
principal  street  to  the  commanding  general's 
residence,  a  large  house,  with  verandas,  op- 
posite the  barracks,  where,  about  fifteen 
yards  off,  lay  twelve  hundred  men  without 
a  dream  of  danger.  There  had  been  a  gay 
gathering,  apparently,  in  the  house  that 
evening,  and  delaying  till  after  the  guests 
had  gone  and  the  occupants  might  be  sup- 
posed to  sleep,  Lieutenant  Cushing  noise- 
lessly tried  the  unbolted  door,  entered  the 
hall,  glanced  into  a  mess-room,  and  then  as- 
cended the  stairs.  But  at  the  moment  of 
softly  opening  the  door  of  a  sleeping-room 
he  heard  a  crash  and  the  whispered  call  of 
his  officer  below,  and  quickly  springing  to 
answer  it,  he  found  that  his  other  companion, 
whom  he  had  left  on  the  veranda,  had,  in 
a  sublime  confidence  that  the  place  was  al- 
ready taken,  gone  strutting  up  and  down, 
awaking  the  Confederate  adjutant-general, 
who,  throwing  up  a  window,  found  himself 
suddenly  looking  into  the  muzzle  of  a  navy 
revolver,  upon  which  the  sash  had  been 
dropped  with  a  clang,  and  the  adjutant,  es- 
caping through  a  back-door,  had  made  for 
the  brush.  In  an  instant  the  lieutenant  was 
in  the  room,  had  struck  a  wax  match,  had 
floored  the  remaining  occupant,  the  chief 
engineer  of  the  forces  there,  and  with  his 
pistol  at  the  head  of  the  man,  still  half 
dazed  with  sleep,  threatening  to  blow  out 
his  brains  if  he  spoke,  had  made  him  put  on 
some  clothes,  had  learned  from  him  that  the 
commanding  general  had  gone  that  day  to 
Wilmington,  had  possessed  himself  of  the 
adjutant -general's  papers  and  plans,  and 
was  in  his  boat  again  and  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream  before  the  outraged  rebels  had 
gained  their  senses,  or  had  begun  to  swarm 
out  and  fill  the  air  with  cries  and  calls ;  and 
while  the  signal-lights  were  flashing  to  the 
forts  below,  and  the  long  roll  calling  to  arms, 
he  was  pulling  quietly  aboard  his  ship,  and 
carrying  the  chief  engineer  of  the  enemy, 
snatched  from  the  very  teeth  of  that  enemy, 


262 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


to  breakfast  with  his  commander — if  not 
exactly  -what  he  had  promised,  at  least  the 
nest  best  thing.  There  being  occasion  on 
the  following  day  to  send  in  a  flag  of  truce, 
a  note  was  dispatched  by  it,  of  -which  a  copy 
is  given  below : 

"  My  deae  Genebai., — I  deeply  regret  that  you  were 
not  at  home  -when  I  called.    I  inclose  my  card. 

"  Very  respectfully,  W.  B.  Ccsheng." 

Of  course,  after  the  first  burst  of  indignation, 
the  matter  was  taken  very  good-naturedly 
by  the  offended  party,  but  this  note  was  de- 
clared to  be  the  very  climax  of  impudence, 
and  Lieutenant  Cushing  was  given  very  dis- 
tinctly to  understand  that  his  experiment 
could  not  be  repeated — a  gage  which  he  had 
no  opportunity  to  take  up  until  the  follow- 
ing June. 

Having  been  undergoing  repairs  at  Nor- 
folk, in  June  Lieutenant  Cushing  returned 
to  Beaufort,  his  coaling  station,  and  there 
learned  that  a  rebel  iron-clad,  the  Baleigh, 
had  been  defying  the  fleet  after  wanton  fash- 
ion, and,  conscious  of  her  strength,  had  not 
only  convoyed  blockade-runners  through  the 
intimidated  squadron,  but  had  remained  out 
of  harbor  for  several  hours,  only  returning 
at  her  leisure  after  daybreak.  Of  course  the 
younger  officers  of  the  navy  were  burning 
with  resentment,  and  Lieutenant  Cushing, 
in  the  Monticello,  accompanied  by  the  Ticks- 
burg,  immediately  started  in  pursuit,  though 
unsuccessfully,  as  she  had  taken  harbor ; 
and  it  was  not  until  a  letter  came  from  Ad- 
miral Lee  himself  that  Lieutenant  Cushing 
was  allowed  the  men  and  boats  that  he  de- 
sired to  go  upon  an  expedition  inside  the 
bar,  and  to  avenge  the  insult  the  navy  had 
received  by  boarding  and  taking  possession 
of  the  Baleigh  where  she  lay.  After  dark, 
then,  one  night  late  in  June,  with  fifteen 
men  and  two  officers — Mr.  Howorth  and  Mr. 
Martin — he  slipped  into  the  harbor,  passing 
Forts  Caswell  and  Holmes  and  the  other 
batteries,  and  pulled  up  the  river  with  muf- 
fled oars,  just  escaping  being  run  down  by 
a  tug,  and  passing  the  town  of  Smithville — 
the  scene  of  his  capture  of  the  chief  engineer 
— in  safety.  His  object  was  to  determine 
the  whereabouts  of  the  Baleigh,  and  then  to 
return  and  bring  back  a  hundred  men  to 
board  her.  The  Baleigh,  however,  was  not 
to  be  seen  any  where  either  inside  the  bar 
or  at  quarantine,  and  he  accordingly  pursued 
his  course  up  stream,  although  a  strong  cur- 
rent made  it  best  for  him  to  hazard  pulling 
on  the  side  where  the  moon  lay.  Just  as  the 
boat  reached  Fort  Anderson,  there  came  a 
sentry's  hail,  followed  by  the  shouting  of  a 
dozen  other  voices  and  a  quick  volley  of 
musketry.  Immediately  the  lieutenant  put 
the  boat  about  and  pointed  her  head  down 
stream,  and  giving  the  helm  a  turn  so  as 
to  present  the  least  possible  surface  to  the 
moon's  rays,  he  cut  across  into  the  shadow 


of  the  other  bank,  where  he  once  more  made 
his  way  up  the  river,  leaving  the  enemy  to 
pursue  an  imaginary  foe  in  the  opposite 
direction. 

When  within  four  miles  of  the  city,  it  be- 
ing nearly  daylight,  the  crew  went  ashore, 
and  drawing  the  boat  by  means  of  their  unit- 
ed strength  into  a  patch  of  swamp,  they 
masked  her  with  branches  of  trees,  and  dis- 
posed of  themselves  in  the  growth  along  the 
bank.  Here  during  the  long  summer's  day 
they  saw  several  steamers  going  unsuspi- 
ciously up  and  down  the  river,  with  the 
rebel  commodore's  flag-ship  and  many  small- 
er craft,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  the  iron- 
clad to  be  seen.  At  twilight,  however,  fan- 
cying that  an  approaching  party  of  fisher- 
men in  a  couple  of  boats  was  a  discovery 
and  an  attack,  Lieutenant  Cushing  stepped 
from  his  hiding-place,  hailed  them,  and  bold- 
ly ordered  them  to  surrender,  which  the  gen- 
tle creatures  did  upon  the  spot.  From  these 
prisoners  he  ascertained  that  there  was  very 
good  reason  for  his  not  finding  the  Baleigh 
at  her  anchorage,  nature  having  taken  the 
matter  quite  out  of  the  lieutenant's  hands ; 
for  having  run  upon  a  sand-bar  some  time 
previously,  the  iron -clad,  with  the  falling 
of  the  tide,  had  broken  in  two  by  her  own 
weight,  and  was  now  an  utter  wreck.  Be- 
ing satisfied  that  this  was  really  the  case, 
Lieutenant  Cushing  resolved,  before  return- 
ing, to  obtain  all  the  information  possible 
concerning  the  batteries  and  obstructions 
of  the  place,  knowing  that  a  movement  upon 
it  was  already  in  contemplation.  Having 
mastered  all  the  facts  of  the  forts  and  chan- 
nels, he  at  last  stationed  himself  with  eight 
men  at  a  junction  of  the  main  turnpike  with 
two  other  roads,  hardly  two  miles  from  the 
city  and  all  its  swarms  of  soldiery  and  lines, 
of  fortifications.  The  first  thing  done  was 
to  capture  the  army  mail-carrier,  with  his 
mail  of  between  four  and  five  hundred  let- 
ters, among  which  were  those  containing 
plans  of  the  rebel  defenses,  and  other  im- 
portant documents;  and  the  adventurers 
being  by  this  time  rather  hungry,  and  hav- 
ing taken  prisoner  a  wandering  store-keep- 
er, Mr.  Howorth  put  on  the  coat  and  cap  of 
the  mail  -  carrier,  mounted  his  horse,  and 
started  for  the  town  to  procure  provisions, 
his  pocket  being  well  lined  with  the  Confed- 
erate money  taken  from  the  mail ;  and  he 
presently  returned  from  his  dangerous  er- 
rand— one  on  which  detection  would  have 
twisted  a  rope  round  his  neck,  with  a  very 
short  shrift — bringing  in  good  refreshments, 
and  having  mingled  freely  with  the  enemy, 
for  whom  he  had  been  obliged  to  exert  his 
inventive  faculties  after  a  manner  that 
would  have  done  justice  to  the  best  ro- 
mancer living.  In  the  mean  time  the  lieu- 
tenant and  his  men  had  not  been  idle,  and 
they  were  now  guarding  twenty-six  prison- 
ers under  the  most  excellent  discipline,  since 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


263 


a  shout  from  any  one  of  them  would  have 
brought  an  army  about  their  ears ;  and  he 
was  novr  only  waiting  for  the  evening  couri- 
er with  the  Kichmond  mail  before  rejoining 
the  remainder  of  his  party  and  putting  off 
for  sea.  He  decided,  however,  to  send  his 
prisoners  to  the  boat,  and  it  was  just  as  they 
were  crossing  the  road  that  the  mail-carrier 
came  in  sight,  accompanied  by  a  Confeder- 
ate officer,  who,  drawing  a  swift  conclusion, 
turned  about  to  flee.  Being  mounted  on  the 
horse  of  one  of  the  prisoners,  the  lieutenant 
instantly  gave  chase,  but  to  no  purpose,  as 
his  horse  was  neither  of  the  best  nor  fresh- 
est ;  and  thereupon,  cutting  the  telegraph 
wires  in  two  places,  he  hastened  to  his  boat, 
which  now  lay  moored  in  a  little  creek,  put 
the  prisoners  into  the  canoes  which  had 
been  picked  up,  and  dropped  down  toward 
the  river,  which  was  reached  exactly  as  the 
shadows  of  night  darkened  it  pleasantly.  It 
had  been  the  lieutenant's  intention  to  leave 
the  greater  part  of  his  prisoners  on  the  light- 
house island  in  the  river,  having  captured 
them  merely  for  the  sake  of  securing  their 
silence  ;  but  just  as  he  was  putting  in  under 
the  bank  for  that  purpose  the  steamer  Vir- 
ginia came  puffing  close  upon  him.  In  a 
breath  the  order  was  given  for  every  man 
to  jump  overboard  and  push  the  boats  into 
the  marsh  grass,  and  the  prisoners  were 
promised  instant  death  upon  the  first  sign ; 
and  while  every  head  was  held  under  the 
gunwale  for  a  moment,  the  steamer  plowed 
by  without  suspicion.  Having  eluded  this 
danger,  Lieutenant  Cushing  now  removed 
the  oars  and  sails  from  the  canoes,  and  set 
twenty  of  his  prisoners  adrift  in  the  tide- 
way, knowing  they  would  knock  about  safe- 
ly there  till  morning,  when  they  would  be 
seen  and  cared  for  from  shore ;  and  attaching 
to  a  buoy,  where  it  could  not  fail  to  be  seen 
and  taken  off,  a  note,  in  which  he  happily 
recalled  to  the  memory  of  the  authorities 
their  declaration  that  he  would  not  again 
enter  their  harbor,  he  made  all  haste  for  sea, 
intending  to  pass  through  the  upper  outlet, 
and  having  Forts  Anderson  and  Fisher  to 
pass,  together  with  the  island  and  outer 
batteries.  It  was  a  little  below  Fort  Ander- 
son that,  encountering  a  boat-load  of  soldiers, 
he  captured  them  without  ado,  and  learned 
that  a  guard-boat  containing  seventy-five 
men  awaited  him  on  the  bar.  This  was  not 
unexpected ;  and  the  fresh  prisoners  having 
been  menaced  with  assurance  of  their  due 
deserts  if  they  attempted  aid  or  comfort  to 
the  enemy  at  the  critical  time,  it  was  re- 
solved by  the  lieutenant  and  his  officers  to 
pull  for  the  bar,  the  tide  setting  down  strong- 
ly, lay  themselves  alongside  the  guard-boat 
in  the  bright  moonlight,  and,  while  engaging 
the  men  there  with  cutlasses  and  revolvers, 
drift  with  them  by  the  batteries,  which,  since 
they  could  not  destroy  them  without  firing 
on  their  own  men,  would  be  likely  to  let 


them  pass.  It  was  no  great  while  before 
glimpses  were  caught  of  a  boat  rocking  on 
the  tide  below  them,  and  they  eagerly  made 
for  it,  quite  confident  of  their  ability  to  oc- 
cupy many  times  their  own  number  of  land- 
lubbers until  they  should  be  out  of  range  of 
the  batteries,  when  it  would  be  just  as  easy 
to  leave  their  foe  behind.  But  when  still 
some  yards  distant  from  the  boat,  and  just 
preparing  to  open  a  broadside  upon  it,  sud- 
denly four  other  boats  darted  out  from  be- 
hind a  neighboring  point,  and  five  from  the 
opposite  island,  and  formed  a  line  across  the 
bar,  completely  entrapping  the  lieutenant 
and  his  men,  while  at  the  same  time,  going 
short  round,  a  large  sail-boat  was  discovered 
to  windward.  Misfortune  could  hardly  have 
seemed  more  imminent  and  absolute,  and  if 
any  thing  could  be  done  it  must  be  done  on 
the  instant.  The  river,  as  it  chanced,  di- 
vided at  that  point  round  an  island,  making 
two  channels,  one  that  up  which  they  had 
passed  on  the  preceding  night  from  Fort  Cas- 
well, now  lying  seven  miles  below,  and  which 
it  would  have  been  madness  to  try,  since  it 
would  have  brought  them  opposite  Smith- 
ville  and  the  forts  by  broad  daylight,  even 
if  the  southwest  gale  had  not  been  blowing 
there,  and  making  breakers  in  which  the 
boat  would  have  been  crushed  like  a  bubble. 
Of  course,  then,  their  only  hope  was  to  cir- 
cumvent the  enemy,  so  that  the  other  and 
shorter  channel  might  be  gained,  at  whose 
entrance  no  such  dangerous  sea  was  to  be 
encountered.  Quickly  giving  the  word  to 
his  men,  the  lieutenant  darted  off  with  his 
boat  as  if  for  Smithville,  passing  the  large 
sail-boat ;  then  suddenly  sheering,  so  as  to 
escape  the  full  moonlight  (as  in  going  by 
Fort  Anderson  the  night  before),  he  was  for 
one  moment  invisible  in  the  swell,  and  the 
whole  ten  boats  were  after  him  on  the  way 
to  Smithville — boats  manned  by  soldiers  in- 
stead of  sailors,  who  were,  therefore,  totally 
unaware  of  the  impossibility  of  exit  by  that 
channel.  Seizing  the  opportunity,  the  lieu- 
tenant boldly  turned  about,  and  when  he 
came  in  sight  again  was  making  for  the  sail- 
boat as  if  he  intended  to  board  her.  Of 
course  the  crew  of  the  sail-boat,  unused  to 
such  contests,  hesitated,  and  started  to  tack, 
but  missed  stays,  and  drifted  away  on  the 
tide  before  they  could  recover  themselves, 
while  the  crew  of  the  lieutenant's  boat, 
bending  all  their  strength  to  the  oars,  dart- 
ed round  in  a  broad  curve  astern  the  line  of 
boats,  and  were  in  the  desired  channel,  a 
hundred  yards  in  advance  of  all  the  rest,  be- 
fore their  object  was  fairly  understood ;  and 
heading  for  the  breakers  on  Carolina  Shoals, 
lest  on  another  course  the  batteries  should 
blow  them  to  atoms — breakers  which  the 
boats  rowed  by  soldiers  could  not  dare 
dream  of  attempting— they  took  the  great 
waves  safely,  and  were  presently  past  all 
pursuit.      The   results    of   this   expedition 


264 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


were  so  important,  and  the  conduct  of  it  so 
remarkable,  that  we  are  not  surprised  to 
find  its  leader  again  receiving  the  formal 
thanks  of  the  Navy  Department.  Indeed, 
these  official  congratulations  became  appar- 
ently quite  a  matter  of  course;  and  in  the 
following  October  he  was  earning  them 
again,  together  not  only  with  the  engrossed 
thanks  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
and  addresses  from  chambers  of  commerce, 
boards  of  trade,  municipalities,  and  clubs 
without  number,  but  with  the  more  sub- 
stantial reward  of  a  promotion  to  the  grade 
of  lieutenant  -  commander,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-one,  all  in  recognition  of  his  destruc- 
tion of  the  rebel  ram  Albemarle,  an  iron-clad 
of  the  same  model  as  the  Merrimac,  which 
had  done  great  damage,  and  met  the  fire  of 
hundred-pounder  Dahlgrens  and  Parrotts  at 
ten  yards  range  without  injury. 

Directly  upon  his  promotion  the  young 
hero  took  command  of  the  flag-ship  Malvern, 
bearing  the  broad  pennant  of  the  rear-ad- 
miral, and  in  December  was  part  of  the  force 
operating  against  Fort  Fisher.  Here  Com- 
mander Cushing  performed  what,  with  the 
exception  of  the  Albemarle  affair,  was  in  re- 
ality the  most  dangerous  exploit  in  all  his 
term  of  service,  and  one  requiring  a  more 
steady  courage,  being  nothing  less  than  the 
buoying  of  a  channel  in  an  open  skiff — a 
skiff  rivaling  the  famous  little  boat  of  the 
battle  of  Lake  Erie  —  in  the  midst  of  a 
shower  of  round  shot,  shell,  and  shrapnel, 
the  work  continuing  for  six  hours,  the  skiff 
frequently  half  filled  with  water  by  the 
plunging  shot,  and  its  companion  being  sunk. 

During  the  brief  cessation  of  more  active 
operations  against  the  Wilmington  forts, 
Commander  Cushing  offered  battle  to  the 
Ghickamaiiga,  a  rebel  privateer  carrying  an 
extra  crew ;  but  the  challenge  being  declined, 
be  drove  a  large  blockade-runner  ashore  un- 
der her  nose,  and  returned  to  the  fleet,  which 
on  the  12th  of  January  resumed  the  attack 
upon  the  forts,  the  ships  being  sixty  in  num- 
ber, comprising  iron-clads,  frigates,  sloops 
of  war,  and  gun-boats.  An  assault  being 
ordered  after  a  three  days'  bombardment, 
Commander  Cushing,  with  other  officers,  ac- 
companied the  force  of  sailors  and  marines 
about  to  storm  the  sea  front  of  Fort  Fisher. 
Marching  to  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of 
the  embrasures,  the  entire  body  threw  them- 
selves down  under  the  slope  of  the  beach, 
waiting  for  the  signal  of  attack,  the  whole 
fire  of  the  navy  passing  with  a  deafening 
noise  just  over  their  heads.  Springing  to 
their  feet  at  the  word  of  command,  they 
moved  forward  steadily  over  the  soft  white 
sand,  which  the  sunshine  made  dazzling,  and 
the  relief  of  which  rendered  every  officer  in. 
his  uniform  of  blue  and  gold-lace — -and,  in- 
deed, every  man — a  conspicuous  target,  the 
rebels  meanwhile  pouring  forth  an  unceasing 
fire  that  cut  down  their  foes  in  windrows. 


Finding  himself  alone  at  last,  just  after 
reaching  the  palisades,  Commander  Cushing 
turned  to  rally  his  men,  and  was  obliged  to 
cross  a  hundred  yards  of  the  bare  sand  with 
the  bullets  pattering  about  him  in  such  wise 
that  it  seems  as  if  he  must  have  borne  a 
charmed  life.  Most  of  the  ranking  officers 
were  either  dead  or  badly  wounded  by  that 
time,  or  else  remaining  under  shelter  of  the 
palisades  till  night-fall — more  fortunate  than 
their  comrades,  who,  dropping  on  the  beach, 
were  swept  out  to  sea  by  the  rising  and  fall- 
ing tide — he  therefore  assumed  the  com- 
mand himself,  and  gathering  some  hundreds 
of  men  with  great  effort,  he  was  again  pro- 
ceeding to  the  assault,  when  requested  to 
relieve  with  them  a  regiment  which  went 
to  the  assistance  of  the  army  on  the  other 
side,  which  was  operating  to  such  effect  un- 
der the  gallant  General  Ames  that  before 
midnight  the  works  had  surrendered. 

The  first  important  action  of  Commander 
Cushing  after  the  surrender  was  the  seizure 
of  the  pilots  Avho  had  so  many  times  safely 
steered  the  blockade-runners  into  port ;  and 
when  his  preparations  to  hang  them  had 
thoroughly  frightened  them  into  obedience, 
he  agreed  to  spare  their  lives  on  condition 
of  their  erecting  the  customary  signal-lights 
on  Oak  Island  by  which  the  blockade-run- 
ning steamers  came  in  and  out.  According- 
ly, some  four  or  five  days  after  the  capture 
of  the  forts,  the  large  blockade-running 
steamer  Charlotte,  trusting  to  the  lights, 
came  over  the  bar  and  made  her  private  sig- 
nals to  Fort  Caswell,  and  being  hailed  and 
told  that  the  signal  corps  had  been  with- 
drawn to  Smithville,  came  confidently  up  to 
her  anchorage.  She  was  commanded  by  a 
British  ex -naval  officer,  and  she  carried 
among  her  other  passengers  two  officers  of 
the  British  army  coming  over  to  see  the 
Confederate  sport,  and  the  owners  of  her 
costly  cargo  of  arms  and  munitions — all  of 
whom,  in  great  glee  at  the  successful  termi- 
nation of  their  hazardous  enterprise,  had 
just  sat  down  to  a  sumptuous  banquet,  and 
were  toasting  their  safe  arrival  in  Cham- 
pagne. Suddenly  the  door  opened,  a  light 
form  stepped  in,  a  hand  was  laid  upon  the 
captain's  chair,  and  every  one  looked  up  in 
amazement  to  meet  the  gaze  of  those  daunt- 
less eagle  eyes  of  Commander  Cushing, 
which  no  one  who  has  once  seen  him  is 
likely  to  forget.  "Gentlemen,"  said  he, 
"you  are  my  prisoners.  Allow  me  the 
pleasure  of  joining  in  your  toast.  Steward, 
another  bottle  of  Champagne !"  Of  course 
there  was  nothing  but  submission,  for  his 
men  were  already  disposed  about  the  deck, 
and  the  Charlotte  was  his  prize.  There  was 
a  moment  or  two  of  sullen  silence  on  the 
part  of  the  discomfited  passengers;  then 
one  of  the  British  officers  looked  at  his  vis- 
d-vis,  and  exclaimed,  in  noble  rage,  "  I  say — 
beastly  luck !"     To  which  his  comrade  pres- 


ONE  OF  MANY. 


265 


ently  replied,  in  a  voice  proceeding  from  the 
depths  of  his  disgust,  "Unmitigated  sell!" 
After  which  disembarrassment  a  better  feel- 
ing prevailed,  and  the  banquet  was  proceed- 
ing as  gayly  as  the  circumstances  allowed, 
when  Commander  Cushing  was  summoned 
on  deck  with  the  announcement  that  another 
steamer,  the  Stag,  was  coming  up  the  river, 
upon  which  he  bade  adieu  to  the  festive 
scene,  and  proceeded  to  make  prize  of  the 
second  steamer. 

It  would  be  easy  to  go  on  enumerating  the 
days  of  this  young  officer  by  his  valiant 
deeds  ;  to  tell  of  the  capture  of  small  towns, 
of  great  store-houses  of  cotton,  corn,  and 
bacon;  of  his  examining  the  obstructions 
before  Fort  Anderson,  and  going  so  close  in 
that  one  night,  exasperated  by  the  speech- 
making  and  carousal  there,  he  sent  a  bullet 
whistling  through  the  astonished  merry- 
makers, and  iu  consequence  very  nearly 
robbed  the  navy  of  one  of  its  brightest  or- 
naments by  the  storm  of  grape  that  instant- 
ly scattered  the  water  about  him;  of  his 
constructing  a  mock-monitor  out  of  an  old 
flat-boat  aud  some  painted  canvas,  and 
sending  her  past  the  fort  on  the  night  tide, 
so  that  the  commandant,  knowing  the  army 
to  be  in  his  rear,  and  seeing  the  gun-boats 
gaining  the  stream  above,  abandoned  his 
fortifications  without  spiking  the  guns.  But 
an  account  has  not  yet  been  given  of  the 
greatest  of  his  achievements,  and  it  is  per- 
haps enough  to  close  with  the  story  of  his 
destruction  of  the  Albemarle — a  more  daring 
and  spirited  act  than  we  can  call  to  mind 
out  of  the  records  of  any  navy. 

The  Albemarle,  as  it  has  been  mentioned, 
was  an  iron-clad  of  tremendous  strength, 
which  had  already  defeated  the  whole  Fed- 
eral fleet,  sunk  the  Southfield,  exploded  the 
boiler  of  the  Sassaeus,  engaged  nine  foes  at 
once  without  danger  to  herself,  forced  the 
surrender  of  a  brigade,  and  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  whole  region  of  the  Roanoke  by 
the  Federal  forces.  The  government  having 
no  iron-clads  capable  of  crossing  Hatteras 
bar  and  encountering  her,  all  its  operations 
in  that  section  were  rendered  practically  use- 
less by  the  Albemarle's  presence  there,  and 
the  expense  of  the  squadron  necessary  to 
keep  watch  upon  her  movements  was  some- 
thing enormous.  In  this  emergency  Lieuten- 
ant Gushing  submitted  two  plans  to  Admiral 
Lee  for  the  ram's  destruction.  The  admiral 
approved  of  one  of  them,  and  sent  its  pro- 
jector to  Washington  to  lay  it  before  the  Sec- 
retary of  the  Navy,  and  the  latter,  though  at 
first  a  little  doubtful  of  its  merit,  finally  au- 
thorized him  to  procure  the  means  to  carry 
it  into  execution  ;  and  he  immediately  pur- 
chased in  New  York  two  open  launches,  each 
about  thirty  feet  long,  fitted  with  a  small 
engine  and  propelled  by  a  screw,  carrying  a 
howitzer,  and  provided  with  a  long  boom  that 
swung  by  a  hinge,  which  could  be  raised  or 
Vol.  XLIX— No.  290.— 18 


lowered  at  will,  and  which  had  a  torpedo  in 
the  groove  at  its  further  extremity.  These 
boats  were  taken  down  through  the  canals 
to  the  Chesapeake,  one  of  them  being  lost  on 
the  way,  and  the  other  reaching  the  sounds 
at  last  through  cuts  and  creeks  and  an  in- 
finitude of  toils,  hinderances,  and  ruses.  Join- 
ing the  fleet,  which  lay  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  the  lieutenant  disclosed  his  object  to 
his  men,  assuring  them  that  they  not  only 
must  not  expect,  but  they  must  not  hope,  to 
return,  for  death  was  almost  inevitable,  and 
then  called  for  volunteers.  They  all  stood 
by  him,  and  six  others  presently  joined  them, 
Assistant-Paymaster  Frank  Swan  and  Mr. 
Howorth,  who  had  often  accompanied  him 
on  his  most  reckless  adventures,  being  of  the 
number.  The  Albemarle  lay  moored  at  the 
Plymouth  wharf,  eight  miles  up  the  river, 
both  banks  of  which  were  lined  with  batter- 
ies, and  held  by  several  thousand  soldiers, 
while,  at  some  distance  up,  that  portion  of 
the  wreck  of  the  Southfield  which  still  lay 
above  water  was  occupied  by  a  picket-guard, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  throw  up  rockets  on  the 
first  alarm,  for,  unknown  to  the  attacking 
party,  rumor  of  the  intended  endeavor  had 
in  some  mysterious  way  already  reached  the 
Plymouth  authorities,  and  every  provision 
had  been  made  for  their  reception.  How- 
ever, on  the  night  of  the  27th  of  October, 
the  little  launch  entered  the  Eoanoke  Riv- 
er, her  engine  at  low  pressure,  to  make  the 
least  noise  possible,  left  behind  all  obstruc- 
tions, passed  within  thirty  feet  of  the  un- 
suspicious picket  on  the  Southfield,  and  ap- 
proached the  wharf  where  the  ram  lay,  a  vast 
black  mass  in  the  darkness.  Greatly  embold- 
ened by  this  success,  the  lieutenant  for  a  mo- 
ment resolved  to  change  his  plan,  and,  know- 
ing the  town  perfectly,  to  put  in  shore  and 
trust  to  the  effect  of  a  night  surprise,  with 
which  he  was  so  well  acquainted,  overpower 
those  on  board,  get  her  into  the  stream  before 
the  forts  could  be  aroused,  and  fight  the  bat- 
teries with  her  on  her  way  down.  But  just 
as  he  was  about  to  carry  his  sudden  plan  into 
execution,  a  cry  from  the  ram  rang  out  sharp- 
ly on  the  night,  repeated  on  every  side,  fol- 
lowed by  the  instantaneous  booming  of  the 
great  guns  from  ship  aud  shore ;  and  return- 
ing no  answer,  the  lieutenant  put  on  all  steam 
aud  made  for  her.  At  the  same  moment  an 
immense  bonfire  of  pine-knots  and  turpentine 
blazed  up  on  the  bank,  most  fortunately  for 
him,  since  it  revealed  directly  the  untoward 
fact  that  a  boom  of  logs  extended  around  the 
ram  in  all  directions  to  guard  her  from  tor- 
pedoes, which  for  one  second  seemed  an  in- 
surmountable obstacle.  Only  for  one  sec- 
ond, though.  With  the  next  the  lieuten- 
ant had  given  orders  to  sheer  off  across 
the  stream,  so  as  to  get  room  for  acquiring 
headway  and  carrying  his  launch  by  the 
force  of  its  own  impetus  straight  across  the 
boom,  though  it  never  could  get  out  again, 


266 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


he  knew.  As  they  turned,  a  volley  of  buck- 
shot tore  away  the  whole  back  of  his  coat 
and  the  sole  of  his  shoe,  and  the  man  by  his 
side  fell  lifeless.  Before  the  volley  could  be 
repeated  the  launch  had  struck  the  boom, 
was  over,  and  was  forging  up  under  the  Al- 
bemarle's  quarter,  directly  beneath  the  mouth 
of  a  rifle-gun,  and  so  close  that  the  merest 
whisper  on  board  the  ram,  where  they  were 
endeavoring  to  bring  the  gun  to  bear,  could 
be  distinctly  heard. 

That  must  have  been  a  terrifically  excit- 
ing moment  to  those  on  that  little  launch, 
with  the  vast  mountain  of  iron  towering 
above  them,  the  fire-lit  mass  of  foes  upon  the 
shore,  and  triumph  and  eternity  in  the  next 
moment.  Lieutenant  Cushing  stood  at  the 
bows  of  the  launch,  with  several  lines  be- 
fore him :  one  of  these  lines  was  attached 
to  the  howitzer,  one  to  the  ankle  of  the  en- 
gineer, one  to  the  officer  who  was  to  lower 
the  boom  carrying  the  torpedo,  one  was  that 
by  means  of  which  the  torpedo  was  to  be 
slid  under  the  ram,  another  was  the  ex- 
ploding-line,  which 'should  pull  away  a  pin 
and  let  a  grape-shot  drop  on  the  percussion- 
cap  beneath.  The  howitzer  had  already  been 
discharged.  The  line  attached  to  the  engi- 
neer was  pulled :  the  engine  stopped.  The 
boom  was  lowered,  the  torpedo  slid  slowly 
off  and  under,  the  air-chamber  at  top  bring- 
ing it  up  in  position  beneath  the  ram.  The 
last  line  was  pulled,  the  grape-shot  fell,  just 
as  the  rifle -gun  went  off — -and  the  rebel 
ram  and  the  launch  blew  up  together,  and 
columns  of  water  shot  up  and  fell  again, 
heavy  with  dead  and  dying.  But  just  as 
Lieutenant  Cushing  pulled  the  exploding 
line  he  had  cried  out  to  his  men  to  save  them- 
selves, and  throwing  off  arms  and  heavy  gar- 
ments, had  struck  out  into  the  water.  The 
surface  was  being  ripped  up  with  shot,  boats 
were  already  out  picking  up  the  wounded, 
and  dying  men  were  going  down  with  gur- 
gling groans  around  him ;  but  he  boldly 
made  for  the  other  bank,  and  was  just  reach- 
ing it,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  one  of  his 
own  men  in  a  sinking  state,  and  turned  to 
relieve,  if  possible,  one  who  had  shared  such 
peril  with  him.  Finding  the  man,  he  sup- 
ported him  with  one  arm  and  kept  him 
afloat  for  several  minutes,  when  all  at  once 
he  went  down,  leaving  the  lieutenant  alone 
on  the  water,  swimming  with  faint  strokes, 
Avith  what  seemed  interminable  distances 
before  him,  but  so  firmly  resolved  to  escape 
that,  perhaps,  after  voluntary  power  was 
expended,  the  muscular  motion  still  contin- 
ued mechanically,  and  carried  him  at  last  to 
shore,  where  he  fell,  with  his  feet  still  in  the 
water,  and  lay,  not  more  than  half  conscious, 
till  morning,  when  the  bright,  invigorating 
sunshine  showed  him  that  he  had  gained  a 
piece  of  swamp  not  far  from  one  of  the  forts, 
and  from  whence  he  could  see  the  angry  and 
excited  town,  with  a  curious  sense  of  power 


in  the  midst  of  all  his  weakness.  The  sen- 
tinel, meanwhile,  was  walking  his  round  on 
the  parapet,  and  in  order  to  make  any  shel- 
ter it  was  necessary  to  rise  and  run  for  it 
the  moment  his  back  was  turned.  Doing 
so,  he  was  obliged,  at  the  instant  the  senti- 
nel turned  about  again,  to  drop  where,  he 
was,  between  two  paths  of  the  tall  grass, 
which  partially  sheltered  him,  since,  being 
covered  with  mud  from  head  to  foot,  he  was 
hardly  distinguishable  from  the  soil,  as  he 
presently  found  when  a  party  of  men  came 
down  one  of  the  paths  and  passed  so  near 
him  as  almost  to  tread  on  his  arm  without 
discovering  him.  Knowing  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  remain  there  safely  for  any  length 
of  time,  he  lay  on  his  back,  planted  his  el- 
bow and  his  heel  firmly  in  the  ground,  and 
thus  hitched  himself  slowly  along  till  he 
gained  the  cypress  swamp,  a  mass  of  bog 
and  brier,  through  which,  barefooted,  bare- 
headed, and  bare-handed,  he  had  to  force  a 
path  till  the  blood  flowed  from  his  innumer- 
able wounds  and  bruises.  Entering  at  last 
a  clearing,  a  fresh  danger  appeared,  in  the 
shape  of  a  group  of  soldiers,  behind  whom 
he  had  to  pass  at  a  distance  of  twenty  yards, 
creeping  through  a  corn  furrow.  He  was 
now  in  the  outskirts  of  a  wood,  and  encoun- 
tering an  old  negro,  he  gave  him  a  piece  of 
money  which  had  chanced  to  remain  about 
him,  and  sent  him  back  to  town  to  bring 
him  news  of  what  had  happened  there  over- 
night ;  for  he  wished  to  be  sure  that  he 
had  done  the  work  there  thoroughly  before 
making  any  more  effort  to  get  back  to  his 
ship ;  and  famished,  -exhausted,  and  with 
every  nerve  strung  to  its  utmost  tension,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  if  he  had  failed  he  did 
not  care  to  get  back  at  all.  Vibrating,  in 
his  suspense,  between  a  fear  that  the  man 
might  betray  him  and  a  confidence  that  he 
would  not,  he  rested  there  till  the  messen- 
ger came  back,  bringing  him  news  of  the 
complete  destruction  of  the  rebel  ram,  and 
he  plunged  gayly  into  another  swamp,  so 
dense  that  he  could  only  direct  himself  by 
the  sun,  emerging  from  its  tall  reeds  and 
brambles,  a  couple  of  hours  past  noon,  upon 
one  of  the  deep  and  narrow  creeks  that  wind 
in  and  out  through  all  those  regions,  exact- 
ly opposite  a  fresh  detachment  of  soldiers 
on  the  other  bank,  and  who,  as  fate  willed 
it,  had  a  little  skiff  made  of  four  or  five 
rough  boards,  with  the  seams  pitched  with 
tar,  "  toggled  to  the  root  of  an  old  cypress- 
tree  that  squirmed  like  a  snake  into  the 
inky  water,"  as  he  described  it.  Lying  in 
wait  in  the  dense  greenery  and  shade  till 
the  men  went  back  to  their  rude  meal,  he 
gently  slipped  between  the  reeds  and  slid 
into  the  water,  swimming  softly  till  he 
reached  the  skiff,  loosened  it,  pushed  it  be- 
fore him  round  the  first  curve,  when  he 
clambered  in  and  paddled  away  for  dear 
life :  paddled  all  day,  into  sunset,  into  twi-; 


JOHN  AND  I. 


267 


light,  into  starlight — such  starlight  as  sift- 
ed down  through  the  great  shadows  of  the 
swamp  and  the  cypress-lined  and  moss-hung 
hanks  of  the  creek.  At  last  he  was  in  the 
Koanoke,  at  last  in  the  op*en  water  of  the 
sound,  where  a  swell  would  have  swamped 
the  frail  skiff,  hut  where  the  night  was  sin- 
gularly still  and  soft — -though,  as  it  was,  he 
was  obliged  to  paddle  all  upon  one  side  to 
keep  his  hoat  on  the  course  which  he  laid 
for  himself  by  the  stars.  When  he  came, 
after  a  weary  while,  in  sight  of  the  picket 
vessel  of  the  fleet,  and,  after  what  seemed  a 
longer  and  still  wearier  while,  within  hail, 
he  gave  his  "  Ship  ahoy !"  and  dropped,  gasp- 
ing, benumbed,  and  half  dead,  into  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat.  But  immediately  on  his 
hail  the  vessel  had  slipped  her  cable,  and  had 
got  out  her  boats  to  take  measures  against 
infernal  machines,  firmly  convinced  that  the 
skiff  was  a  piece  of  retaliation  on  the  part 
of  the  rebels,  and,  in  response  to  his  asser- 
tion that  he  was  Lieutenant  Cushing,  loud- 
ly assuring  him  that  Lieutenant  Cushing 
was  no  longer  in  existence ;  and  it  was  still 
some  time  before  he  found  himself  on  board, 
refreshed,  clothed,  and  in  his  rigbt  mind, 
and  on  the  way  to  the  flag-ship,  where,  in 
honor  of  his  return,  rockets  were  thrown  up 
and  all  hands  called  to  cheer  ship,  even  be- 
fore the  success  of  his  expedition  was  an- 
nounced. And  for  once  valor  had  its  due  ac- 
knowledgment and  reward. 


JOHN  AND  I. 

"i^OME,  John,"  said  I,  cheerfully,  "  it  real- 
Vy  ly  is  time  to  go  ;  if  you  stay  any  longer 
I  shall  be  afraid  to  come  down  and  lock  the 
door  after  you." 

My  visitor  rose — a  proceeding  that  al- 
ways reminded  me  of  the  genius  emerging 
from  the  copper  vessel,  as  he  measured  six 
feet  three — and  stood  looking  reproachfully 
down  upon  me. 

"You  are  in  a  great  hurry  to  get  rid  of 
me,"  he  replied. 

Now  I  didn't  agree  with  him,  for  he  had 
made  his  usual  call  of  two  hour's  and  a  half : 
having,  in  country  phrase,  taken  to  "  sitting 
up"  with  me  so  literally  that  I  was  frequent- 
ly at  my  wit's  end  to  suppress  the  yawn  that 
I  knew  would  bring  a  troop  rushing  after  it. 

He  was  a  fine,  manly-looking  fellow,  this 
John  Cranford,  old  for  his  age — which  was 
the  rather  boyish  period  of  twenty-two — 
and  every  way  worthy  of  being  loved.  But 
I  didn't  love  him.  I  was  seven  years  his 
senior ;  and  when,  instead  of  letting  the 
worm  of  concealment  prey  on  his  damask 
cheek,  he  ventured  to  tell  his  love  for  my 
mature  self,  I  remorselessly  seized  an  En- 
glish Prayer-book,  and  pointed  sternly  to  the 
clause,  "  A  man  may  not  marry  his  grand- 
mother." That  was  three  years  ago  ;  and  I 
added,  encouragingly,  "Besides,  John,  you 


are  a   child,    and    don't    know    your   own 
mind." 

"If  a  man  of  nineteen  doesn't  know  his 
own  mind,"  remonstrated  my  lover, "  I  would 
like  to  know  who  should.  But  I  will  wait 
for  you  seven  years,  if  you  say  so — fourteen, 
as  Jacob  did  for  Eachel." 

"  You  forget,"  I  replied,  laughing  at  his 
way  of  mending  matters,  "that  a  woman 
does  not,  like  wine,  improve  with  age.  But 
seriously,  John,  this  is  absurd ;  you  are  a 
nice  boy,  and  I  like  you — but  my  feelings 
toward  you  are  more  those  of  a  mother  than 
a  wife." 

The  boy's  eyes  flashed  indignantly ;  and 
before  I  could  divine  his  intention  he  had 
lifted  me  from  the  spot  where  I  stood,  and 
carried  me,  infant  fashion,  to  the  sofa  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room. 

"  I  could  almost  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
shake  you  !"  he  muttered,  as  he  set  me  down 
with  emphasis. 

This  was  rather  like  the  courtship  of  Will- 
iam of  Normandy,  and  matters  promised  to 
be  quite  exciting. 

"  Don't  do  that  again,"  said  I,  with  dig- 
nity, wheu  I  had  recovered  my  breath. 

"  Will  you  marry  me  ?"  asked  John,  some- 
what threateningly. 

"Not  just  at  present,"  I  replied. 

"  The  great,  handsome  fellow,"  I  thought, 
as  he  paced  the  floor  restlessly, "  why  couldn't 
he  fall  in  love  with  some  girl  of  fifteen,  in- 
stead of  setting  his  affections  on  an  old  maid 
like  me  ?  I  don't  want  the  boy  on  my  hands, 
and  I  won't  have  him !" 

"As  to  your  being  twenty-six,"  pursued 
John,  in  answer  to  my  thoughts,  "  you  say 
it's  down  in  the  family  Bible,  and  I  suppose 
it  must  be  so ;  but  no  one  would  believe  it ; 
and  I  don't  care  if  you're  forty.  You  look 
like  a  girl  of  sixteen,  and  jrou  are  the  only 
woman  I  shall  ever  love." 

Oh,  John,  John!  at  least  five  millions  of 
men  have  said  that  same  thing  before  in  ev- 
ery known  language.  Nevertheless,  when 
you  fairly  break  down  and  cry,  I  relent — for 
I  am  disgracefully  soft-hearted. — and  weak- 
ly promise  then  and  there  that  I  will  either 
keep  my  own  name  or  take  yours.  For  love 
is  a  very  dog  in  the  manger,  and  John  looked 
radiant  at  this  concession.  It  was  a  com- 
fort to  know  that  if  he  could  not  gather  the 
flower  himself,  no  one  else  would. 

A  sort  of  family  shipwreck  had  wafted 
John  to  my  threshold.  Our  own  household 
was  sadly  broken-  up,  and  I  found  myself 
comparatively  young  in  years,  with  a  half- 
invalid  father,  a  large  house,  and  very  little 
money.  What  more  natural  than  to  take 
boarders?  And  among  the  first  were  Mr. 
Cranford,  and  his  son,  and  sister,  who  had 
just  been  wrecked  themselves  by  the  death 
of  the  wife  and  mother  in  a  foreign  land — 
one  of  those  sudden,  unexpected  deaths  that 
leave  the  survivors  in  a  dazed  condition,  be- 


268 


HARPER'S  NEW  MONTHLY  MAGAZINE. 


cause  it  is  so  difficult  to  imagine  the  gay 
worldling  "who  has  been  called  hence  in  an- 
other state  of  being. 

Mr.  Cranford  "was  one  of  my  admirations 
from  the  first.  Tall,  pale,  "with  dark  hair 
and  eyes,  he  reminded  me  of  Dante,  only 
that  he  "was  handsomer ;  and  he  had  such  a 
general  air  of  knowing  every  thing  "worth 
knowing  (without  the  least  pedantry,  how- 
ever) that  I  "was  quite  afraid  of  him.  He 
was  evidently  "wrapped  up  in  John,  and  pa- 
tient "with  his  sister — which  was  asking 
quite  enough  of  Christian  charity  under  the 
sun,  for  Mrs.  Shellgrove  was  an  unmitigated 
nuisance.  Such  a  talker !  babbling  of  her 
own  and  her  brother's  affairs  with  equal  in- 
discretion, and  treating  the  latter  as  though 
he  were  an  incapable  infant. 

They  staid  with  us  three  years,  and  dur- 
ing that  time  I  was  fairly  persecuted  about 
John.  Mrs.  Shellgrove  wrote  me  a  letter  on 
the  subject,  in  which  she  informed  me  that 
the  whole  family  were  ready  to  receive  me 
with  open  arms — a  prospect  that  I  did  not 
find  at  all  alluring.  They  seemed  to  have 
set  their  hearts  upon  me  as  a  person  pecul- 
iarly fitted  to  train  John  in  the  way  he 
should  go.  Every  thing,  I  was  told,  de- 
pended on  his  getting  the  right  kind  of 
wife. 

A  special  interview  with  Mr.  Cranford,  at 
his  particular  request,  touched  me  consider- 
ably. 

"I  hope,"  said  he,  "that  you  will  not  re- 
fuse my  boy,  Miss  Edna.  He  has  set  his 
heart  so  fully  upon  you,  and  you  are  every 
thing  that  I  could  desire  in  a  daughter.  I 
want  some  one  to  pet.  I  feel  sadly  lonely 
at  times,  and  I  am  sure  that  you  would  just 
fill  the  vacant  niche." 

I  drew  my  hand  away  from  his  caress, 
and  almost  felt  like  hating  John  Cranford. 
Life  with  him  would  be  one  of  ease  and 
luxury ;  but  I  decided  that  I  had  rather 
keep  boarders. 

Not  long  after  this  the  Cranfords  conclud- 
ed to  go  to  housekeeping,  and  Mrs.  Shell- 
grove was  in  her  glory.  She  always  came 
to  luncheon  now  in  her  bonnet,  and  gave  us 
minute  details  of  all  that  had  been  done 
and  talked  of  about  the  house  in  the  last 
twenty-four  hours. 

"  It  is  really  magnificent,"  said  she,  length- 
ening out  each  syllable.  "  Brother  bas  such 
perfect  taste  ;  and  be  is  actually  furnishing 
the  library,  Miss  Edna,  after  your  sugges- 
tion. You  see,  we  look  upon  you  quite  as 
one  of  the  family." 

"That  is  very  good  of  you,"  I  replied, 
shortly;  "but  I  certainly  have  no  expecta- 
tion of  ever  belonging  to  it." 

Mrs.  Shellgrove  laughed  as  though  I  had 
perpetrated  an  excellent  joke. 

"Young  ladies  always  deny  these  things, 
of  course ;  but  John  tells  a  different  story." 

I  rattled  the  cups  and  saucers  angrily; 


and  my  thoughts  floated  off"  not  to  John,  but 
to  John's  father,  sitting  lonely  in  the  library 
furnished  after  my  suggestion.  Wasn't  it, 
after  all,  my  duty  to  marry  the  family  gen- 
erally ? 

The  house  was  finished  and  moved  into, 
and  John  spent  his  evenings  with  me.  I 
used  to  get  dreadfully  tired  of  him.  He  was 
really  too  devoted  to  be  at  all  interesting, 
and  I  had  reached  that  state  of  feeling  that, 
if  summarily  ordered  to  take  my  choice  be- 
tween him  and  the  gallows,  I  would  have 
prepared  myself  for  hanging  with  a  sort  of 
cheerful  alacrity. 

I  locked  the  door  upon  John  on  the  even- 
ing in  question,  when  I  had  finally  gotten 
rid  of  him,  with  these  feelings  in  full  force ; 
and  I  meditated  while  undressing  on  some 
desperate  move  that  should  bring  matters 
to  a  crisis. 

But  the  boy  had  become  roused  at  last. 
He  too  had  reflected  in  the  watches  of  the 
night ;  and  next  day  I  received  quite  a  dig- 
nified letter  from  him,  telling  me  that  busi- 
ness called  him  from  the  city  for  two  or 
three  weeks,  and  that  possibly  on  his  return 
I  might  appreciate  his  devotion  better.  I 
felt  inexpressibly  relieved.  It  appeared  to 
me  the  most  sensible  move  that  John  had 
made  in  the  whole  course  of  our  acquaint- 
ance, and  I  began  to  breathe  with  more 
freedom. 

Time  flew,  however,  and  the  three  weeks 
lengthened  to  six  without  John's  return. 
He  wrote  to  me,  but  his  letters  became  some- 
what constrained ;  and  I  scarcely  knew  what 
to  make  of  him.  If  he  would  only  give  me 
up,  I  thought ;  but  I  felt  sure  that  he  would 
hold  me  to  that  weak  promise  of  mine,  that 
I  should  either  become  Edna  Cranford  or 
remain  Edna  Carrington. 

"Mr.  Cranford"  was  announced  one  even- 
ing, and  I  entered  the  parlor  fully  prepared 
for  an  overdose  of  John,  but  found  myself 
confronted  by  his  father. 

He  looked  very  grave ;  and  instantly  I 
imagined  all  sorts  of  things,  and  reproached 
myself  for  my  coldness. 

"  John  is  well  ?"  I  gasped,  finally. 

"  Quite  well,"  was  the  reply,  in  such  kind 
tones  that  I  felt  sure  there  was  something 
wrong. 

What  it  was  I  cared  not,  but  poured  forth 
my  feelings  impetuously  to  my  astonished 
visitor. 

"  He  must  not  come  here  again !"  I  ex- 
claimed. "I  do  not  wish  to  see  him.  Tell 
him  so,  Mr.  Cranford !  tell  him  that  I  had 
rather  remain  Edna  Carrington,  as  he  made 
me  promise,  than  to  become  Edna  Cranford." 

"  And  he  made  you  promise  this  ?"  was  the 
reply.  "  The  selfish  fellow  !  But,  Edna, 
what  am  I  to  do  without  the  little  girl  I 
have  been  expecting  ?  I  am  very  lonely — 
so  lonely  that  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  give 
her  up." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032757981 


FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


'<:.'/..-■.•■:   . '■■'■■'"-'  'A  ■'     '  ■  ;     '    '  '  I 


